#is this really how childbirth is?

[luvsimtingz]

Lawrence was so attentive the whole time like that’s a daddy fr

Random legacy I abandoned right after she got knocked up. Simone went into labor and although it was the worst pain ever, she was glad her loving man was there every second of her contractions. |next|

[hadesoftheladies]

women be like "i can't believe women of the past were so restricted by men like that, i'd never accept it" and then wear heels

[materpater]

Hehe more of my special brand of brainrot called: drawing hypothetical fix-it mpreg fanart for random media. Featuring. One more time: lkyt

[frogsafterdark]

I think a lot about Zoro being scared out of his mind about childbirth, and how after is all said and done he considers it one of the worst things he's experienced. Since Zoro is a character who's all about control over the body, strength, and stoicism, childbirth would be hard for him to cope with.

And I think about how he has to open himself up to the love and support around him so he can get to the other side of it

[rxttenfish]

Pardon the question, but how do the reimagined merfolk reproduce? In MP I recall them saying that merfolk reproduce in a similar way to seahorses (may be a throwaway joke, but in any case) but the reimagined merfolk are obviously different from how they are in MP in many ways.

ah yes, one of those things that i've had worked out fully for forever but never made a dedicated post on it over here... at least partially because im suspicious of tumblr and its ability to nuke anything even frankly talking about sexual selection and reproductive methods of various animals, oops.

which is why this is going under a cut, oops. like i said, lots of frank discussion of sexual selection and the processes of it. im a nerd when it comes to this.

-

the first thing most humans would notice when looking upon a group of merfolk (of the same species), is a notable lack of dimorphism. there's no dramatic color shifts, no difference in size beyond usual distribution among a population, no odd behaviors, nothing to really sort them out from each other. this is a consistent theme among merfolk in general — while they continually get larger as they age (at a much slower rate than they did growing up, certainly, and not as dramatic as pop media might suggest this to be), it's still fairly close along the existing curve of height distribution, and usually the only real "tells" for an adult merfolk's age is that they get pitted and worn, a little like a statue slowly wearing down, or similar to the age of crocodilians.

which might be a little odd for these hypothetical humans looking onwards, even if they were already familiar enough to be able to tell merfolk facial features apart. even moreso because as frank as merfolk cultures usually are about sex and nudity taboos seem rare, all of their applicable anatomy is internal, so even seeing one entirely in the nude isn't enough to sex them.

the truth has to do with merfolk as a secondarily aquatic tetrapod. i've mentioned before that the early ancestors of merfolk were temnospondyls that responded to environmental stressors in their freshwater environments by being able to take advantage of a wide variety of environments. they have lungs and gills, meaning they can breathe on land very well if they need to move between pools and ponds, and they have gills to optimize their time spent underwater and not have to surface if the going is good underwater. even more than that, they developed both external gills and internal gills, meaning they could reap the benefits of both fast-moving and slow-moving water.

all of this is relevant, because to be exposed to all of these different environments and to be able to move between them when the going gets tough in one, means they had to make longer and longer treks over land. some were dependent on specific vernal pools that they would travel to to raise their young, but this also limited the areas in which they could live, and if those vernal pools dried up then they could not reproduce.

so these early-line temnospondyls made the same switch that other tetrapods have made, and switched to internal fertilization. this meant that, if they were to find another one of their species during their land-travels, they could mate and continue onwards, even being ready to lay eggs right at the moment they found the vernal pool, limiting the amount of time the offspring needed in the water.

however, they did still need vernal pools and water, and were very vulnerable in these stages. and with the existing push towards shorter and shorter time spent in the vernal pools, well, what if they just didn't bother with them at all? it'd put more stress on the parents, but they were already primed to be able to survive through these periods of stress, so it wouldn't be such a huge jump.

so the line that would eventually lead to merfolk and the leviathans both made the switch to live birth fairly early on in their history.

the rest that happens from there varies. this was a more diverse group, back in the day! there were many different species with many different methods for that live birth. some would continue just carrying the fertilized eggs to be dropped off in the next suitable pool they found, some developed them into tadpoles, some went through metamorphosis in the womb and popped out into the world as mini adults, some left spermatophores for others of their species to pick up, some developed evertable genitalia and went at it that way.

but another shift also happened early on in their evolutionary history. them being able to spread out so far and wide meant that there was a very low density of them in any given area, and these low numbers made them vulnerable. if there was high disparity in the proportion of sexes in any given area, they'd feel the effects of that quicker, and when they were already in competition over the same niches as other temnospondyls, crocodylomorphs, marine reptiles, and later early cetaceans, etc who dominated these niches, they were often kept at these lower population numbers.

which was about when these early-line temnospondyls also made the switch to a trioecious mating system.

this happened because sex determination in amphibians is already weird, so it wasn't too far of a leap for a mutation to arise which created fertile dual-sexed individuals. and these dual-sexed individuals had a lot of success under the niche they had already carved out! now, whenever they did find another member of their same species, it was guaranteed that they could mate with them, which meant that their populations were self-sustaining and stable on much lower numbers. due to how their dispersal already worked, inbreeding wasn't as much of a negative factor, and they were even more capable of making it through the disasters and ecological strain that had the other non-lissamphibia temnospondyls going extinct. they could eke out a living wherever they found it, make long traversals over land if they needed to seek out greener pastures, and they were able to sustain themselves in the background without needing as high of a density of themselves in any given spot.

like i said too - this was a diverse clade back in the day! and you ended up getting different variations on this. some species didn't have any dual-sexed individuals. some species had only dual-sexed individuals. some had only males and dual-sexed individuals, and some only females and the dual-sexed individuals, and all in various different proportions and numbers.

what matters here is that merfolk were a part of the line who had evertable internal genitalia, and who ended up entirely composed of these dual-sexed members, making them an entirely unisex species in the modern day.

(this is also where i butt in, to explain from an authorial perspective, this is me kinda... being sneaky with canon and how it tends to phrase things. yes, technically it is the male who gets pregnant with merfolk! but, also, so would females. because they don't have "male" or "female" in these strict terms, and any given individual to them has the potential to do both. this is something that i do a lot with the usual facts given to me by canon, where it's technically true, just because i like to be contrary about it and not take things in the most literal way. it's just what i find fun, i know some other people do it differently, and that's fine with me!)

what this means is that merfolk don't have a conception of "gender". it checks out with their social structure too, because if a merfolk's miivt'ia have a child, then it doesn't matter who actually physically created that child, said merfolk would still consider themselves their parent all the same. the reproductive unit is larger than a singular merfolk or even two merfolk, and at that point, even if they were bisex, then each grouping still has the same reproductive potential as any other.

what this means is that, when miranda describes herself as a princess or a girl or that the king is her dad or she has sisters — these are best seen as translation errors. to a merfolk, the concepts at play aren't gendered. they would not immediately identify themselves as male, they would not immediately identify themselves as female, they'd be very confused and would only get more confused as you tried to explain it to them. miranda describes herself as a princess and uses she/her because she was told that, for landfolk, everyone had to pick one of two and she had to just choose one. she picked "princess" and "girl" because one of the first things given to her as a way to learn english were fairytales, and she really ended up latching onto the princess characters in them.

in fact, this is why merfolk seem to be a little... reductive? when it comes to gender? as in, if you do take the time to explain it to them, you will have to explain it all. which means starting with gender relating to the different genitalia, and you have just told this hypothetical merfolk that it is important to landfolk, who will now operate under that assumption. they will not innately understand why landfolk care about this or all the distinctions thereof and certainly not the nuance of it, so they end up just going "okay, when this landfolk tells me this person is a girl, that must mean she is like this", and potentially getting frustrated when you tell them that that's wrong.

it can't even really work for royals, who do simplify parentage down to two people, and care a whole lot about who is related to whom. for royals in the current merkingdom, its primarily about attempting to preserve a specific lineage. because merfolk lineage is its own can of worms, they simplify - they take the current heir (one who has been groomed and taught how to behave as though emblematic of that lineage and has been guaranteed to have the strongest claim to it), and will find a suitable non-heir of another royal house, for whom they will forbid either of them to make kids with any other merfolk. this agreement is less like a marriage in the traditional sense, and more like the heir's house is briefly sponsoring the non-heir's house, sending extended political and economic benefits to the latter through this connection, in exchange for reinforcing the lineage of the heir and making it more potent, reinforcing their political ties.

this is to ensure that absolutely no other genetics can be involved and to contain the process. because this occurs by who-was-born-where, it also means that only the heir really matters in this ordeal. if the heir dies while the non-heir of the couple lives, and they already have had children, then the non-heir is "locked in" and cannot remarry, obliged to stay within the heir's house in their current position to ensure the current holders of the lineage are brought up and cared for properly. if the heir dies while the non-heir lives, and they have no children, then the non-heir is sent back to their prior family with no benefits, and the next heir is named as though the marriage never happened. if the non-heir dies while the heir lives, then they can remarry as they please, existing children or not. this is not especially popular, as the non-heir's family can accuse the heir's family of being unfair or snubbing them, but it is still perfectly legal and accepted.

for instance: the king, miranda's father, had to marry into the royal family. it was the queen, miranda's mother, who was the crown princess before miranda, and who is seen as passing her inheritance down onto miranda and the other three sisters. when the queen died, the king could not remarry. he was secure in his position as king, but any other marriages would not carry the lineage of the royal family, and at best he would be seen as trying to "dilute" that lineage.

in this setup, it's not all that important who is the donor party and who is the carrying party. either the inheritor or their partner can be the one carrying, so long as it's certain and guaranteed who the baby comes from and that this can be assured with certainty. usually it's agreed between the two of them for whatever reason, though the carrying partner does have a benefit in being a surefire way to prove that they are one of the parents, with zero doubt. inheritors will do this mostly to make their kids look the most "100% royal line, no doubts", but this can also go the opposite way, to cement it down to it being a specific line who carried them and to reinforce the political benefits their prior family enjoys from this arrangement.

which brings me back to merfolk genetics, and why this is so important for the royals to ensure they know exactly who made what!

which is to say, merfolk never opted for traditional sexual competition, and instead erred towards sperm competition.

early on in their lineage, they didn't have a lot of sexual dimorphism to begin with. they were already fairly widespread, and while gatherings around early vernal pools were a pressure towards sexual competition, after they stopped relying on vernal pools, the differences between the sexes became more of a hinderance than a benefit. why would they bother with any colorful spots or being extra big and bulky when you're not even around enough of your species for choice to be an issue? if you can find another one to begin with, then that's really all either of you need, and challenging each other just puts another bind on that low-population issue. they were all function, minimal fuss, beyond some general traits that were seen as markers of health.

even when the ancestors of merfolk first started forming their colonies along the coasts, they didn't change this. there wasn't an initial hierarchy laid out, they were just a large group of the same species arranged in the same area for the same purpose, and also maybe some protection by numbers. they did start to form the early groups that would later lead to the modern miivt'ia, and they started to primarily associate with those groups and socialize with them, which meant that when they wanted to find someone to mate with, that hunting group was always the first and the easiest to access.

why fight over mates in that situation? why compete? the health of the group starts to become directly correlated to the health of the individual, and you've already determined they all have good genes, or else they wouldn't be this beneficial to helping you hunt and survive and evade predation.

but this isn't to say competition isn't happening. there is still the slight edge that natural selection adds in, and with multiple matings between different individuals, the thing that gets selected upon is the sperm itself. faster sperm, ways to kill competetor's sperm, ways to suppress the immune system of the mating partner to ensure that sperm will take, more output, ways to remove competetor's sperm to begin with, etc etc etc. their internal genitals start to get bizarre, both for the sake of excluding saltwater intrusion as they get more and more aquatic, but also for the sake of this sperm competition. this system also means, not only do more matings occur right after each other, but more partners involved. the "default" evolutionary position for merfolk starts to look more and more like a clump of noodles, writhing around and over each other. sexual contact becomes a way to bond and to connect with someone primarily, and a means to reproduce secondarily. it's an easy way to solve problems and to get merfolk to make up, by them simply fucking it out and everyone feeling better for it.

which is where i can get into the actual mechanics of it all!

unfortunately this is also where i run out of steam (also am sick. that will do it too), so i'll absolutely have to make a part 2 to this... and also i'll make another post sharing a few old writings of mine on this topic.

someday i'll make like. a masterpost on merfolk reproduction and what's going on there, but like i said. sexual selection is one of those things my brain goes ham for and i looooove talking about all these additional little facts. like how merfolk pregnancies last 2 years (to match with other large marine predators), and that they're based off of both tiger sharks and the alpine salamander, the latter of which has the record for the longest pregnancy on the planet at up to five years :3

also read Bitch: On the Female of the Species by Lucy Cooke if this sounds interesting to you! and maybe listen to the episodes the Common Descent Podcast did on Live Birth and Milk!!!

[peaches2217]

I have so many varied and fun WIPs I could work on but my brain continues to scream “BE WEIRD ABOUT CHILDBIRTH! SURELY YOU WON’T WEIRD ANYONE OUT IF YOU KEEP WRITING ABOUT CHILDBIRTH!” and I’d like it to sTOP

[queen--kenobi]

Tyland and Elayna arguing over kids is about the number of kids BUT. It's specifically Elayna begging Tyland for more kids while Tyland is telling her no because he doesn't want to hurt her

[emmcfrxst]

jesus christ i've just been catching up on everything going on at ur workplace rn and im so so sorry bby what the FUCK. it's super understandable that with all of this u're in over ur head, so u better not be worrying abt not answering asks !!!!!!! u're doing so so good dealing with this bs; it'll be over soon, i just know u're gonna nail that interview & u'll get the safe, kind & organized work environment u deserve im manifesting it so fucking hard <333 also wishing ur boss a bomb in her cereals

there’s been a really heart wrenching family tragedy involving a horrible miscarriage as well so i have A Lot on my plate rn but i still feel bad for not writing as much 😭

[blindedguilt-archived]

(@amorfati-rp Agares) She approaches the dragon quizzically. "You seem....different from the dragons I've heard about. How come you're so different?"

::THE GREEN DRAGON

Of all the people of the village who could have approached it, it was the half-elf girl that was most unexpected. That girl, always flitting to and fro. Back from her home, across the village, into the forest and out again to the wells - it was understandable. To the dragon's knowledge, she was without a father, she and those two brothers of hers. The priest had been happy to share the news of a pregnancy in the village, one directly attributed to that girl's mother, and so it could only be expected that weight be put on the eldest's shoulders. Even so... Similar to most residents of a grown age, the half-elf named Agares didn't press herself with coming too close to it most days, if ever. For some, it was merely their way of showing respect to a being as powerful as a dragon, no matter how diminished its powers had become in its old age. They didn't wish to bother it, and the dragon didn't mind - as a matter of fact, the gesture was appreciated some days when the pain had become overwhelming and it remained incapable of doing much else than simply laying with closed eyes. There were others, however, who feared the Green Dragon and its watchful rest over the village, that whatever gossip or slander spoken in its presence would be taken and relayed to the priest. Of course, it had enjoyed listening to all sounds of the confined, bustling life inside the forest's walls - but it could hardly be thought of as anything more than simple interest and adoration. These worries that came from those humans were stemmed from fear. Fear from their old home, fear from the very same mistakes that had led them there - it could hardly bear any resentment against that. Still, the priest hadn't been the dragons only company, much to its relief. The children, covered in dirt from their play, flocked to it nigh constantly despite their parent's lectures, climbing and shouting... It was a painful, but rewarding feeling. Most had never seen a dragon before, and paid little mind to the weakened form in distraction of the awe of its great wings and coiled tail. For those too shy to approach, it typically could afford to open its eyes enough to gaze back at the child, a cause of excitement for many. In these times, the priest would typically stay by its side, keeping careful watch ensure that the pain wouldn't grow too much, nor that any child ran astray. And from the shadows of the trees, that was when it had typically picked up on her presence. Not with the other adults, but staring from afar. Neither an adult nor a child, as the dragon had understood it, but still - far more child than adult. Those eyes were never settled on it, but rather, the priest besides it. In a way, that feeling of "Love" no matter how misplaced was the closest she had gotten to womanhood. Most others her age had already been married, or were much too caught up in their own affairs to afford the luxury of such needless pining and delusions. It was an obsession, one regarded with the same nonchalance as the dragon had with all affairs of the village, and so remained an unspoken secret between the two. It could tell it clearly; she meant no harm. She simply didn't know what to do. It was unexpected, then, that she had saw it. It was with the same bravery and innocent curiosity of a child that she had approached the resting dragon, and only after those words were spoken did it began to stir. Beyond the priest, the dragon didn't care to speak to anyone, simply preferring to watch their lives and interactions without its interference. And in those rare moments it did have something to say, it was always through him that those thoughts were conveyed. And this girl... There wasn't anything special about her. At least, not that commanded it's attention - she was a villager, a simple but precious existence it had seen years and years before. The dragon knew she would get along well without the need for words. Dulled, yellow eyes rolled open to stare drearily up towards her, and a long, tired sigh was its answer.

[andthebubbles]

it’s so funny how i rewatch s1 anthony scenes and i don’t give a shit about him (unless i really try to keep in mind what we know about him and try to understand what’s going on behind the facade/beyond what the show dictates we should see because it’s definitely not from his pov) and then i watch s2, particularly from ep 3 onwards, and suddenly it’s like, !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is my dumbass idiot

[novakstiel]

being a woman is literally so traumatizing like being in a serious relationship i’m finally coming face to face with the fact that if i want children, i will have to go through the most horrendous experience and the most excruciating pain a human can experience and i’m supposed to just be fine with that? wtf? like women will go like “yeah when i gave birth it hurt so bad i thought i was gonna die and it lasted for like a couple days too and i wasn’t given anything to help the pain and instead i was told to leave the hospital because i wasn’t “far enough along yet” and also the baby ripped my pussy and after the birth i had difficulties even using the toilet” and that’s just.... normal???? what the fuck i’m literally going insane thinking about this every day

[star--anon]

the worst feeling in the entire whole wide world is getting a few thousand words into a fic, finally feeling your old writing habits coming back, getting really happy, having a full plan for the entire fic, finally incorporating your favorite tropes in a way that you can be proud of,

and then lose that motivation because you got stuck, think about it for a few days, and realize ~one thousand words should get deleted because somewhere along the way you lost your literary analysis skills and wrote the dumbest stuff you've ever read

the second worst feeling is like. a torn Achilles heel or something

[loveanddeepthroat]

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️

[pallasandthepeople]

Not to brag, but I'm currently writing a wip inspired by House of the Dragon with a forbidden romance over heirs to the throne WITHIN the Royal family WITHOUT incest or weird age differences, and it took some figuring out but I'm very proud

i appreciate the content warnings and understand their importance but i can’t help but giggle a little bit when i click on a fnaf fic and half the chapters have child death warnings in their notes. sir this is the Child Death Game i think i know what i’m signing up for

[gojonanami]

tags: crack, fluff, jealous!reader, dad!gojo, baby gojo, mentions of pregnancy / birth, gojo only is obsessed with you dw

You really don’t mean to get jealous.

You really don’t.

What is there to be jealous of? These random girls hitting on your gorgeous husband as he pushes your baby in his stroller. You can understand—if they didn’t see the obvious ring glinting in the bright daylight.

But they obviously did. And yet they still were still fluttering their eyelashes, and trying to ask for his number. You’re not the jealous type — well not this much. But still coming down from the mix of hormones from childbirth, you couldn’t help it.

You snapped.

You strode over, tossing your things you had picked up onto the rack again, “Satoru?”

And he turns, a grin on his lips at your presence, but he doesn’t expect your hand darting out and grabbing him by his face, much to the shock of the two girls.

“Ehhh?”

Your glare makes them stammer in place, “Mine,” and your fingers are pressed to satoru’s lips and his lips curls before a soft kiss are pressed to them.

“You heard her,” he adds, as his fingers intertwined with the ones on his face, kissing your knuckles this time, “I’m taken,”

And the girls don’t apologize, scurrying away as you scowl after them, a snort from your husband drawing your attention.

“What?”

His gaze gleams with mischief, the very same that made you fall for him, “I’m yours, huh?”

“Yeah, so what?” You grumble, cheeks burning, and he’s chuckling, an arm slinking around your waist, “why were you talking to them anyway?”

“They were just asking for directions—“ and you stare up at him, gaping in horror.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” And he’s grinning, shrugging.

“How many chances do I get to see my gorgeous wife claim me in a crowded mall? It was so hot,” and you’re leaning into his touch, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You know what else is hot?” And he hums.

“Sleeping with the baby in his room,” and you’re gone, walking off, as your husband chases after you with the stroller.

Satoru only manages to convince you to let him back in when you see the dark bags under his eyes the next morning.

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

Arw you really the author John Green? The same person who wrote The Fault in Our Stars and Looking for Alaska?

Yes, but I published one of those books 19 (?!?!?!) years ago and the other 12 (!?!?!?!?) years ago. What have I been up to since then?

My brother Hank and I started Good.store, which delivers high-quality socks, coffee, and soap to your home and donates 100% of its profit to charity. Through good store, we've raised over $7,500,000 to support efforts to radically reduce maternal mortality in Sierra Leone, where as recently as 2019, one in seventeen women could expect to die in pregnancy or childbirth.

(In fact, technically I am here on tumblr as an unpaid intern for the awesome coffee club, which you should really sign up for if you like ethically sourced coffee that tastes delicious and doesn't enrich billionaires.)

I wrote the novel Turtles All the Way Down and then had a little existential crisis and wrote a nonfiction book called The Anthropocene Reviewed, the latter of which is my first book for adults and my first attempt to write as myself.

I helped produce made a movie adaptation (streaming now on Max!) of Turtles all the Way Down.

I helped raise my kids and supported my spouse as she wrote her book You Are An Artist and created a PBS show about art called The Art Assignment.

I ran the educational media company Complexly and the merch company dftba.com while my brother had cancer.

I bought around 2% of a fourth-tier English football team called AFC Wimbledon. Wimbledon are different from most football clubs because they are owned by their fans, each of whom gets one vote in the club's leadership regardless of how much money they put into the club.

I became obsessed with tuberculosis, the world's deadliest infectious disease (it will kill over a million people this year despite being curable), and how TB both exemplifies and reinforces human-built structures of injustice, which is the subject of a book I'm writing that will come out next year.